


A Phoenix Rising from her Ashes

by CurseWeaver



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-16
Updated: 2018-05-16
Packaged: 2019-05-07 21:28:47
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,941
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14679851
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CurseWeaver/pseuds/CurseWeaver
Summary: This fic was written in response to the Granger Enchanted Fairytale Challenge. My fairy tale is The Ugly Duckling, with a major influence of Anne Rice’s Beauty series. I own nothing related to Beauty, Harry Potter, or Hans Christian Andersen’s fairy tale “The Ugly Duckling”. I’m just twisting them to the point that they’re almost unrecognizable.





	A Phoenix Rising from her Ashes

**Author's Note:**

> Word Count: 8,000-ish  
> Pairing: Hermione/Lucius  
> Challenge Fairytale: The Ugly Duckling  
> Warnings: Alternate Universe, BDSM, Extreme Coarse Language, Extreme Violence, Lemons (Extreme Smut), OOC. This fic will be dark, set in an alternate universe where The Dark Lord won and Mudblood is a completely acceptable term. Lots of BDSM, Master/slave references, if this offends you, please don’t read on.  
> Note: I’ve substituted phoenixes for ducks/swans. I thought it appropriate to use a magical bird. The burning period when a phoenix is basically useless will be my ugly duckling phase, and the majestic bird in all its beauty will represent the swan. Hopefully, that’s not too out of the box and just plain weird lol.

A Phoenix Rising from her Ashes -

 

Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry still stood magnificently against the Scottish countryside, despite Lord Voldemort corrupting Hogsmeade to the point of being unrecognizable. After the final battle in which the Death Eaters won the war, Lord Voldemort set up numerous training camps in which he deposited captured Half-bloods and Mudbloods for training in serving the Purebloods of the Wizarding world.  
The Dark Lord’s perversions came as a major surprise to every witch or wizard alive. Pureblood ladies could be heard lamenting the depraved things their husbands got up to under Lord Voldemort’s reign. No witch was safe once Death Eaters had a taste of owning slaves and being the unquestioned Masters of their new world.

Numerous Pureblood witches were either murdered for disobedience or withdrew into their homes to escape the risk of punishment. The sad truth of their world was the fact that Pureblood wives were even less important than ever before. After having born heirs, they were relegated to the dregs of the manor homes, brought out only to entertain guests and make their husbands look good. Mudblood slaves were the mistress of choice now and those who fought against the new ideals met rather sticky ends.

Hogsmeade village contained the base beginner training camp. The magical village had become a dirty maze of paths, each leading to and from tiny huts all situated around a grand building in the centre where the Death Eaters on guard congregated.

Headquarters only contained one room with a massive table in the middle. Surrounding the meeting area were stations in which slaves were continuously being trained. Currently a junior Death Eater was whipping a blonde Mudblood with a studded cat-o-nine on the northern wall. The southern wall featured the “sensory deprivation area” and a crying redhead kneeled upon the hardwood with a black hood covering her head while two Death Eaters stalked around her naked form. The western area simply held a threadbare pillow where slaves were forced to kneel and learn to pleasure their Masters properly.

The eastern wall was the area all slaves dreaded. It contained all manners of torture equipment from whips and chains to nipple clamps and piercing paraphernalia. All torture devices carried heavy charms to prevent scarring as most Death Eaters wanted a perfect slave with only their status mark. The eastern area was the area new slaves were tied down to receive a status mark. The Death Eaters affectionately called their slaves “little phoenixes”. They were brought into training as dirty little chicks that eventually blossomed into beautiful birds to serve all of their perverted needs. Plus, it was a major ego boost to the demented wizards to use the Order’s mascot on the little Mudbloods that the Order had fought so hard to protect.

Each slave in the Hogsmeade camp carried a mark on the base of the neck featuring a tiny, sooty phoenix chick. The tattoo was magical in a number of ways. Firstly, it moved and tickled the skin constantly, and occasionally (mostly at night) made annoying chirping noises. It served as a constant reminder to slaves that the only way to get rid of the annoyance was to please her Master and graduate to the Phoenix camp in London.

Secondly, it operated much like a dark mark in that it was a tracking device and slaves were able to be called through it. The chick marks only warned a slave of her Master’s intent to come to her. Once a phoenix graduated and was chosen by a Death Eater, it functioned fully to bring the slave to the Master at any time.

Roughly a dozen low ranked Death Eaters were sitting around the massive table in the centre of the room when the door banged open and a massive man in Death Eater robes entered with his hand covering his right cheek and blood dripping onto the floor.

“Jugson, what did you get into this time?” sneered a dark haired wizard seated at the head of the table. He was tentatively the head of the guard and reported directly to Severus Snape. Jugson had been assigned to breaking the Mudblood friend of Harry Potter. She was a special case and they weren’t allowed to injure her irreparably.

Jugson was wobbling due to blood loss as two of his comrades grabbed him and drug him to the table to sit. He quickly healed his wound with his wand, but cursed when his fingers slid over the scarred flesh that ran from his temple to his chin. That damned Mudblood was horrible about using wandless magic to curse her fingernails and then hissing and scratching like a cat when he got close.

Jugson threw his wand across the table, watching its progress as it bounced across the room before saying, “I’m done. There is nothing that can be done for that ugly little bint here. We’ll have to call in Snape, because mark my words, if I have to visit that hut one more time, I’ll kill that nasty little Mudblood.”

Theodore Nott, who was being trained himself in the training of Mudbloods, pushed the blonde slave’s mouth off his cock with a wet pop before saying, “I’ll take Granger. I’ve wanted a piece of her swotty arse since fifth year. I bet I could get her trained for Snape.”

Jugson sneered at the cocky young man and asked, “Boy, do you see my face? Think what that little hellcat can do if you walk into her room naked. If you value your cock you won’t get it anywhere near that one.”  
Theo pouted and wrapped his hand in the blonde hair of the slave in front of him. He thrust his hips a few times, taking advantage of the other Death Eater’s attention on him to slap the slave in the face with his hard cock before replying, “At least get me a few of her hairs, yeah? I’ll let another little slave play Potter’s Mudblood for a few nights to get her out of my system.”

Jugson licked his lips as he watched the blonde on her knees hungrily devour the Nott boy’s cock and said with a snarl, “Might do boy, that’s the only way you’ll be able to handle Hermione Granger.”

 

Hermione Granger’s Hut

 

Hermione Granger, the witch who many called the brightest witch Hogwarts had seen since the founders was sitting in a corner of her dilapidated little hut facing the door. Her hair had long since become filthy to the point the wild curls were flat against her back and matted. Her body was bare and covered in a fine layer of dirt and dried blood. Her neck was raw and the skin puckered slightly around the leather strip the Death Eaters substituted for a collar while she was attending her “training”. She was anchored to the corner like a common muggle dog and it infuriated her.

Hermione leisurely picked dirt and blood from under her ragged nails, her eyes squinting occasionally as she attempted wandless scourgifies. She single-mindedly practiced every moment she was alone, attempting to get her skills to the point she would be able to escape, or at least draw Snape’s attention. She knew Jugson would be back soon, and if she could just gather enough focus, she was going to avada that malicious idiot.

She had put up with the massive Death Eater for two weeks now, since he had been assigned to train her for phoenix service. As of yet, the furthest he’d gotten was a finger against the lips of her pussy before she thrust a finger into his eye. Since that incident, she had learned to focus minor curses onto her fingernails and shred whatever skin she could reach. The burly bastard would be scarred to hell and back before they transferred her or killed her, whichever came first.

It wasn’t that Hermione had some huge vendetta against serving a Master; in fact Victor Krum put naughty little ideas into her head back in her sixth year while corresponding via owl. No, she was fine with submitting to a wizard, but she’d be damned if the wizard was a weak, lower-level Death Eater with absolutely no respect or influence. Hermione knew how the world worked now and her sights were aimed quite high.

Boots crunching in the dirt outside her hut snapped Hermione to attention right before the door opened to admit Severus Snape. At one point, Hermione had hoped Severus would develop an interest in collaring her, for she knew his loyalties had lain with The Order of the Phoenix. In fact, she had enough proof buried behind her occlumency walls to earn him a one-way ticket to dinner with Nagini, Lord Voldemort’s disgusting fat snake. The Dark Lord fed the reptile so many prisoners in the past year she had ballooned beyond what Hermione thought possible for a snake.

Severus Snape was a one witch wizard, unfortunately. His loyalty seemed to bypass death, for Lily Potter still held his heart in her ungrateful fist.

Looking utterly bored, Severus Snape leisurely strolled into the hut, glancing about the rank surroundings while taking in Hermione’s hair, tangled and matted from the squalid living conditions. Severus summoned a chair and sat down, taking his time to arrange his robes around him to his satisfaction. Both to amuse himself and to provoke her into a reaction, Severus allowed his eyes to drift lazily, insolently down Hermione’s body, focusing on the lovely curve and swell of her breasts as she sat waiting to hear what he had come to say.

His silky voice always made her shiver, angry or not, so when he spoke Hermione felt chillbumps erupting over her entire body.”Miss Granger, I warned you repeatedly that obeying your captors would be the only way for me to get you out of here safely. Now I’m forced to take you to The Dark Lord.”

Hermione turned her nose up and grinned cheekily at her ex-Professor. “Wasn’t that the plan all along, to get me out of this preposterous excuse for a camp and into the big leagues?”

Severus Snape smirked nastily at her and replied, “The plan, my dear, was to get you into the phoenix camp as a trained slave the Death Eaters all wanted, not an untrainable Mudblood with more cheek than sense. It will take every drop of your acting ability to keep The Dark Lord from killing you.”

Hermione rose to her knees and shuffled forward until her dirty breasts were pressed against his unsoiled cloak and whispered, “You and I both know you could put me out of my misery in mere moments if you’d simply accept my eternal devotion and allow me to please you, Sir.” Her makeshift collar was digging further into her neck and keeping her head bent back to the point she had to stare at Severus’ crotch instead of the ground.

A deep chuckle escaped the dark wizard seated in front of the naked witch as she strained against her bonds to rub her naked breasts into his clothed knees. “Now Miss Granger, why can’t you be this docile and pleasing to the Death Eaters charged with your training? You’d have saved yourself quite a bit of trouble.”

Hermione licked her chapped lips, still staring single-mindedly at Snape’s zipper as she said, “They don’t deserve my submission, and therefore they won’t receive it.”

Snape raised an elegant brow while staring straight into her eyes, attempting a silent legilimens despite knowing how strong her blocks were. It was time to enter the snake pit and he made a last effort to test her readiness.

 

London, Diagon Alley

 

Severus Snape led Hermione down Diagon Alley by the crude leash attached to her even cruder collar. He had allowed her a threadbare cloak to cover her nakedness but her feet were bare and it was a quite chilly night.

Hermione was practically running to keep up with Severus’ long-legged strides, all the while doing exercises in her mind to build up her walls in preparation of meeting Lord Voldemort.

They had almost reached their destination, the imposing black gates of Lord Voldemort’s new headquarters looming ominously before them when Hermione whispered to her dark companion out of the corner of her mouth, “Just remember, we’ve been left with no choice, no matter what you see me do.”

Severus Snape simply snarled down at her and reached into his cloak for his wand, tapping it twice on the gate. Hermione took one last cleansing breath to settle her nerves before following Snape onto the path leading up to the menacing house.

Logically, she knew Severus was aware what would have to transpire for them to be successful, but a part of her had been afraid from the beginning he would either think less of her or lose faith completely. She might have been a Gryffindor, but her sense of self-preservation was decidedly strong. She would do what was required of her, and like every other thing she set her mind to, she would accomplish it with honours.  
The moment they walked through the double doors, Hermione felt a cold, dark presence dancing along the edge of her conscious. Her occlumency walls were tight, she was not afraid of that, but Lord Voldemort was as smart as they come and could detect mental lockdowns as easily as he could detect a lie. Therefore, Hermione concentrated on thoughts of excitement, happiness regarding being out of Hogsmeade, and pure adoration for Severus Snape.

She watched her feet exclusively, not daring to look up as they made their way through the grand entrance hall and into a cavernous lounge area with black stone walls, so deep they appeared endless. Here, she could see the multiple sets of expensive dragon hide boots, but their owners’ legs seemed to merge into the shadows of the room.

The closer they got to the man sitting in the lone chair, the heavier the presence in her mind became. Now she could see his trouser-clad legs, and one pale, spidery hand resting lightly on his right thigh. She felt rather than heard the excited titters in the air when she fluidly slid to her knees, still staring at the ground in front of her. Her back was held proudly straight, knees shoulder width apart, hands lying on her thighs with her palms up, yet she still did not dare look at the Dark Lord.

The pressure in her head was immense to the point where she began to feel a slight panic. The only other time she had felt the Dark Lord in her head he was not nearly as strong. His magic, and by extension his legilimency, must be getting stronger. Hermione knew in that moment that it would take every ounce of her concentration and determination to pull this off.

Hermione sat further back on her heels, straightening her back and automatically correcting her posture. She would be damned if she would appear less than perfect. The last thing she wanted to do was give the Death Eaters something to use against her, like at the Hogsmeade camp. She had to appear the perfect, docile little slave.

Lord Voldemort suddenly stood, and an unnatural hush fell over the room as he walked up to Hermione. She shivered a little as the toes of his boots met her knees but otherwise held her composure as she waited.  
One white, long finger came into her field of vision as The Dark Lord leaned down and pulled her chin up. She could feel the intrusion as soon as those glowing red eyes met hers, and it was one hell of an intrusion. His mental probe felt like ice, an unrelenting icicle blasting through anything in its way. Hermione was struggling to keep her barriers hidden from his attack.

‘You don’t look like a rebellious Mudblood, do you? Show me why you were sent to your death, little slave,’ Hermione heard in her head and carefully pushed forward a false scene she’d been working on since Severus came to fetch her from Hogsmeade.

Hermione knelt before Jugson, her chest pushed forward, her naked breasts rubbing into his clothed thighs as she sucked his cock further into her throat. Her wrists were bound behind her back, her body rocking back and forth as her lips slid repeatedly over his hardened length.

The Death Eater had a fistful of matted hair, guiding the Mudblood’s mouth over his cock as he whispered, “That’s right you little whore, take it all. If you swallow my cock like a good little bint, I might just take you home with me.”

Hermione whimpered around the cock in her mouth, gagging slightly when he pushed past her tonsils and into her throat. Jugson’s cock began to swell as several hot bursts of cum slid over her tongue and Hermione greedily swallowed, making sure to catch it all so as not to be punished.

Jugson panted and ran the head of his cock over her chapped lips, rubbing in the occasional drop of cum still being expelled. “That’s right you nasty little slut, you’re mine and I’m not letting them take you, hear me? Now scratch my face, make it look like you put up a right good fight.”

Lord Voldemort blinked, his eyes refocusing on Hermione and not her memories before smirking and saying, “Severus, bring me Jugson. It seems we have a Death Eater working toward his own goals, not mine.”  
The Dark Lord cupped Hermione’s cheek in his hand, still studying her quite intently and despite him not being in her mind fully, she felt his presence and concentrated on feeling admiration and gratitude. Rubbing her cheek into his hand she whispered, “Thank you, Master.”

Lord Voldemort chuckled darkly and walked back to his chair, crooking one long finger for her to join him. Slowly crawling over, her naked ass swaying in the air, she knelt upon the cold stone floor at Lord Voldemort’s feet. She almost jumped out of her skin when she felt magic pouring over her body, but quickly realized that they were cleaning spells. Lord Voldemort was cleaning her! She must have made a better impression than she had hoped.

Several Death Eaters walked up, all asking questions simultaneously. Voldemort simply held up a hand and said, “All of the hype regarding Potter’s Mudblood... lies. Falsehoods perpetuated by Jugson because he wanted to keep her for himself. We will get to the bottom of that and give her to a Death Eater deserving of such a prize.”

Hermione lowered her lashes and attempted to peek to the side, anything to get a hint at who she would be stuck with but all she could see were legs and boots. If she broke form or appeared less submissive, she would probably be dead within an hour.

One of those long-fingered hands was in her hair, her suddenly clean hair, and it made Hermione feel even more naked without the dirt and grime covering her. She tilted her head closer to that hand, attempting to appear affectionate while really peeking at the identity of the Death Eaters in front of her.

Her eyes met the startling gray of Lucius Malfoy and she barely managed to keep herself from jerking in shock. Quickly glancing down, Hermione cleared her head and simply sat and listened until Severus came in, dragging a screaming Jugson. That bastard had always had a temper and apparently, he did not realize his life was on the line, judging by the insults spewing from his drooling lips.

“My Lord! I tell you that disgusting little Mudblood was violent, and too stupid to learn a bloody thing! I did my best but she was just a bloody idiot!” Jugson was screaming as he was thrown at Lord Voldemort’s feet, his head landing in front of Hermione so that she was able to see into his furious eyes.

The Dark Lord laughed long and hard before saying, “You would do well to tell your Lord the truth, Jugson. I have already seen it all in the Mudblood’s mind and I do not tolerate my loyal followers thinking of their own needs over mine. You know this.”

Jugson looked from Lord Voldemort to Hermione, whispering, “But My Lord, I don’t understand. I tried to train her for you. She was worthless! No matter what I did she would scratch like a cat.”

Lord Voldemort suddenly stood, with his hand still in Hermione’s hair and said, “I told you. I saw what you have done with MY Mudblood, Jugson. You are only allowed to train them for me, not attempt to own one.”

Jugson cowered for a moment until Voldemort’s words registered and he shot straight to his feet screaming, “Own one?! I don’t want that filthy little swot! She must have shown you something false!”  
The Dark Lord moved so fast it was as if he had Apparated. He ended up with his slit of a nose almost touching Jugson’s and screamed, “You dare imply a Mudblood could fool Lord Voldemort? You DARE say a Mudblood is more powerful than I?” The Dark Lord’s anger was suffocating everyone in the room until he finally raised his wand and calmly said, “Avada Kedavra.”

Lord Voldemort whirled around and jerked Hermione to her feet by her hair, unintentionally expelling the breath she was holding in a loud feminine whoosh that drew every male in the room’s attention.  
“Lucius!” Lord Voldemort called, “You are more than likely the only Death Eater I trust to control this bint. Have her,” he said, practically throwing Hermione into the blond Death Eater’s arms.

Lucius sneered down his nose at her and tilted his head in the Dark Lord’s direction. Hermione, growing slightly desperate whispered, “Am I not pleasing to you, Master?” toward the Dark Lord. Lord Voldemort smirked and replied, “Perhaps later, Mudblood,” as Lucius pulled her out into the hall.

 

Lucius Malfoy’s Private Rooms

 

Hermione shifted from foot to foot as she waited for Lucius Malfoy to return from the loo. He left her the moment they had entered his private quarters, without a single comment or command. At this point, she had no idea what to expect from the blond. She knew from Severus that Lucius was a ‘high risk’ of turning against Voldemort, but he had never said for certain.

The door connecting the bedchamber to the loo slammed open, causing Hermione to jump and clutch her hands together in front of her chest. She caught the furious expression on Lucius Malfoy’s face before quickly looking at the floor and bracing herself for whatever was coming next.

Lucius gracefully crossed the room, his long strides eating up the distance much too quick. He came around behind Hermione, his chest brushing first against her shoulder, then her back. She was trembling as he simply stood there, not moving and barely touching her. She could feel his body behind her, like he was an electric current attracting her.

“Turn around,” he said in a calm yet cold voice.

Hermione pulled her shoulders back and slowly turned, her eyes glued to the floor until his dragon hide boots came into view. She had no idea what to expect but it was not what he did as soon as she was fully facing him.

Lucius gripped her chin with bruising fingers and lifted her head until he was staring into her eyes. What came after could only be described as the most painful legilimency attack Hermione had ever encountered. He searched so hard she ended up on the floor panting, tears pouring from her eyes and blood pouring from her nose.

Hermione began to stand, but he forced her back to her knees with the toe of his boot and said, “No, kneel.”

He was pacing in front of her, back and forth, his stormy gray eyes upon her every inch of floor he travelled. He sheathed his wand and stood directly in front of her, staring down at her and ordering, “Do not look away from my face. Now, you will tell me how you managed to fool The Dark Lord.”

Hermione blinked, reaching up to wipe the blood from her upper lip before speaking, “I am not sure what you mean, Master Malfoy. Surely I could not fool The Dark Lord.” She attempted to drop her gaze only to have Lucius backhand her across the face with his left hand, imprinting an M from his ring above her eyebrow.

Lucius slid his hand down to her neck and dug his fingers in, pulling her to her feet and flush against his body with one fluid motion. “I’ll warn you once Mudblood, I am not a man to be trifled with. If you are to belong to me, you will belong to me alone. I am where your loyalties lie and that includes every single secret in that filthy little head of yours.”

Hermione flushed and licked her chapped lips, the blood from her nose still tinting them bright red. She could taste copper and salt on her tongue as she stared up into mesmerizing gray eyes. Severus said he was on the fence, and might be an ally, however, he never said one way or another that Lucius could be trusted. She had to make a split second decision that could mean life or death.

Squaring her shoulders and trusting her instinct she whispered, “I refused to submit to Jugson or any other trash like him and created false images for Lord Voldemort. I had to be moved here in order to get close to The Dark Lord.”

Lucius stared down at her, one of his blond eyebrows rising. “Why would a Gryffindor Mudblood such as you desire getting close to The Dark Lord?” he asked while gently stroking her cheek. His voice was hypnotic and his eyes were drawing her deeper with every second she spent gazing into them.

Hermione closed her eyes, fighting her instincts to simply spill every secret she had ever known to this enthralling man. Feeling a hand between her shoulder blades, her eyes snapped open and she immediately stared at the ground, begging Merlin that they had not been caught having THIS conversation.

Lucius’ thumb was now rubbing comfortingly along the skin of her throat, pausing only long enough to vanish her sorry excuse for a collar and then heal the skin as she heard the voice of Severus Snape at her back whisper, “It is quite alright, Hermione. I believe Lucius might be trusted with our task and I am immensely pleased he was chosen as your Master. Lucius is much more capable and willing than I to see to your welfare.”

The sound of his voice was the last straw. The incredibly hot wizard in front of her and that voice combined instantly made her weak in the knees and stirred a powerful desire deep in her abdomen. Hermione could not resist, she laid her head back against Severus’ shoulder and shifted, rubbing her thighs together discreetly. At least she thought it was discreet. Lucius noticed her condition immediately and smirked down at her.

“You did not tell me my little pet gets wet from the sound of your voice, Severus,” Lucius said, smirking over her shoulder at the dark wizard. Hermione could feel the raspy chuckle in Severus’ chest against her back and even that was a complete turn on. She was at the end of her rope, having to constantly guard the plan, practice her wandless magic for just the right moment and plot every second her mind was not being raped.

Hermione allowed her body to relax slowly, every muscle simply melting into submission. She gazed at Lucius, her eyes softening as she whispered, “Not just his voice, Master. Yours is delicious as well.”  
Lucius stepped back, avoiding her hand that rose automatically in response and said, “Is that right, pet? I believe it is time you show me how you are going to make saving your arse worthwhile. There is no need for talking, my dear. Remove Severus’ clothes.”

Hermione quickly turned around and gazed up at Severus apologetically, thinking he would not want to be involved in whatever Lucius had in mind. She was surprised to see an excited glint in his black eyes and a delicious smirk on his thin lips.

She heard the sound of clothing rustling behind her as she unbuttoned dozens of buttons to get Severus’ coat off, then pushed it off his shoulders. Before his coat could hit the floor, Hermione gathered it and folded it carefully, bending over slowly as she placed it on the chair to expose her naked ass and wet pussy to the two wizards. Their harsh intake of air made her want to giggle like a schoolgirl.

By the time she was back in front of Severus, Lucius was bare-chested and Severus had his white button up shirt resting on his shoulders. Hermione quickly removed it and not bothering to fold it, tossed it on top of his jacket. Lucius had his boots kicked off and was beckoning her forward with his index finger.

As she stopped in front of Lucius, he grabbed her behind the head, his fingers threading instantly into her hair and jerked her forward. His lips on hers caused an instant gasp of pleasure to escape Hermione and he wasted no time in plundering her mouth with his tongue. He tasted like cigars and firewhiskey, but Hermione found they were quickly becoming two of her favourite flavours.

As Hermione’s hands rested on Lucius’ hard pectoral muscles, Severus stepped up behind her completely naked and drove two fingers instantly into her tight pussy. Hermione screamed in shock, pain, and pleasure into Lucius’ mouth as she bucked her arse back into Severus’ body. His hard cock was nestled against her back and drops of precum were creating cool spots on the overheated skin of her back.

Severus groaned and said, “Gods damned Lucius, she is as tight as a virgin,” in a voice much deeper and less smooth than usual. He pulled his long digits from her pussy and held them over her shoulder, slipping them into Lucius’ mouth when he broke the kiss.

Lucius’ eyelids were half-mast and his nose flared as he cleaned Severus’ fingers of her juices. The moment his lips released Severus’ fingers they were right back in her pussy, plunging in and out so fast Hermione’s vision was blurring.

“She is more than ready, Severus. Hold her a moment,” Lucius told the other wizard as he surrendered her trembling body and began removing his trousers. As he finished disrobing, he whispered in her ear, licking the shell occasionally while Severus snogged the bloody hell out of her. “Do you think you will manage to satisfy Severus and myself, pet? We are both wizards in our prime and highly used to carnal delights that I am sure an angelic Mudblood such as yourself never considered possible.”

He did not give her a chance to reply, not that she would have considering he told her there would be no need for speaking. Lucius ran his hand around her jaw, caressing her cheek as he pulled her back from Severus’ lips and forced her to her knees. Severus’ hard cock was literally inches from her nose when Lucius kneeled behind her, spread her knees, and thrust so far forward he slammed into her cervix.

Her hoarse scream was all the invitation Severus needed. He slapped her face roughly with his cock and then slipped it between her lips. With a groan he said, “Merlin, Lucius. I have been fantasizing about this day for years. All of that work I did training this know-it-all swot and all I got was a thank you and no progress. Fuck, her mouth is heaven.”

Hermione felt the knot of tension low in her belly uncoiling; Lucius’ cock was grazing her g-spot with each thrust. Lucius slowed his thrusts with a deep moan as she tightened even further around him and managed to say, “If you think her mouth is heaven, just wait until you get your cock into this tight hole.”

Hermione barely managed to wrap her tongue around the underside of Severus’ cock and suck when he pulled out. Her entire body was on fire and jerking with each of Lucius’ thrusts as he drug out her orgasm. Lucius hands were gripping her hips so hard she could literally feel the bruises forming.

Severus fisted the hair at the crown of her head in his right hand and threw his head back while grabbing his cock with the left. As Lucius slammed into her and came deep in her womb, Severus expelled burst after burst of hot cum onto her face and neck.

Severus walked backward until the backs of his knees hit the bed and sat down, his hand still slowly stroking his cock. Lucius on the other hand was still buried balls deep inside of her and Hermione did not think she ever wanted him to leave.

Lucius was still stroking her hips, rubbing out the rough red marks as he spoke, “Do you truly believe we can accomplish this, Severus? Is she not too young to go head to head with The Dark Lord?”

Hermione, still trembling and afraid to move an inch in fear of dislodging Lucius’ quickly softening cock whispered, “I am sorry to interrupt Master, but I am the only hope and I know what I am getting into. I just need The Dark Lord in private.”

Lucius slammed his open palm down on Hermione’s bare arse as he said, “I was asking Severus, pet, mind your place,” and withdrew his cock while pulling her back against his naked body. He cradled her body almost lovingly, his large hands gliding over her sweaty skin.

Severus chuckled and settled back on a pillow on the far side of the bed. “I am positive, Lucius. If we are going to get rid of him, we have to move now and I am afraid the only other people capable of doing what Miss Granger must do are dead.”

Lucius stood and placed Hermione on the bed, nudging her gently to the middle while settling into bed himself. “Clean my cock pet, then we can sleep. I would prefer it if you are well rested and as strong as possible if you are going to continue this plan of yours. The Dark Lord had my wife killed; I’d prefer to keep my slave if you do not mind.”

Hermione smiled at Lucius, honestly touched at his concern for her welfare. It was more than she expected when they came up with this plan. She was terrified she would end up with a wizard like Rodolphus Lestrange or his brother.

Lucius slowly stroked her back while she licked every inch of his cock. It was not long until he had hardened and she was stroking his length with her lips. He allowed her to slowly work his cock, her mouth barely moving as she sucked the hard flesh. Lucius simply laid back and watched her lavishing attention on him. When he came, his body barely moved at all. His hand stilled on her back and he exhaled a shaky breath while her mouth was flooded with his cum.

Hermione swallowed slowly and licked her lips before crawling up the bed to lie nestled against Lucius’ hard chest. She glanced over at Severus and found him sound asleep, his mouth open slightly and his arm bent behind his head. Her opinion on his teaching abilities had definitely improved, she thought with a smile.

Lucius placed an affectionate kiss to the top of her head and wordlessly turned out the lights. When she woke the next morning, she was alone with nothing but a note saying they were working on getting The Dark Lord interested in using her and that Lucius would return that night.

 

Lord Voldemort’s Audience Room

 

It was nine at night, three days after Hermione had come to London. She had spent the last three days in the company of mainly Lucius, but occasionally Severus. Ten minutes ago, Lucius came to his rooms to inform her she was to spend the night with The Dark Lord. He appeared worried, almost frantic, before inhaling a deep breath, wishing her luck, and guiding her to the doors of Lord Voldemort’s audience room and leaving without another word.

Hermione knew this was the entire point of being here. It was what she had been working toward for almost a year now. It was the only chance to get the Wizarding world out of the hands of someone truly evil and vile. She had just been hoping for a little more time to prepare, and if she were being honest with herself, she craved a little more time with Lucius.

The double doors in front of her opened and she stood as still as a statue waiting for someone to accompany her inside. Slaves were never to enter alone and slaves were never to look upon a room occupied with Death Eaters or, gods forbid, Lord Voldemort.

Instead of being allowed inside, The Dark Lord reached a long-fingered hand out and grabbed her elbow. He led her up a stairwell without a single word. Hermione could hear the scratching of scales on stone that meant Nagini was behind them.

Lord Voldemort led her into a massive bedchamber, full to the brim with bookshelves. The only visible wall was the wall housing the fireplace. The rest were full of books, and one housed the headboard of a massive bed. In front of the fire were two armchairs, a couple of end tables, and a thick rug. Lord Voldemort led her over to the fireplace, sat in an armchair, and pushed her to her knees on the rug.

Hermione moved into a submissive pose as quickly as she could without appearing ungraceful. With her eyes on his shoes, she withdrew into her own mind and focused for all she was worth on appearing happy, submissive, and adoring of the evil wizard in front of her.

The Dark Lord hissed, and then said to Hermione, “I am well pleased with your progress, Mudblood. Lucius informed me of how perfectly behaved you are behind closed doors. I believe it is time to reward you by allowing you to pleasure Lord Voldemort.”

Hermione barely managed to keep her voice even as she replied, “Thank you Master, I live to please,” while the massive snake was curling in circles around her kneeling form. She was reminded of storefront windows at Christmas time and the electric trains that wound around the trees.

“Lie flat on your back on the rug, Mudblood,” Voldemort hissed as he stood and began disrobing. Hermione hesitated long enough for the snake to move and did as he commanded. She looked everywhere but into his eyes, yet was watching closely as he removed his clothing. If one ignored his face, he had a pleasing body. Hermione knew deep down if she could survive this and what comes after, she would be back with Lucius and this would only be a nightmare.

Hermione kept images of the naked Dark Lord in her mind, accompanied by false feelings of lust and devotion on the edges of her mind in case he was checking. Lord Voldemort knelt in front of her and parted her thighs. Hermione almost screamed when Nagini slid up her slit, the snake’s scales scraping her sensitive clit roughly. As Nagini reached Hermione’s neck she nudged until Hermione’s head came off the floor and she was sliding under her head.

Lord Voldemort had an intensely cold look in his eyes as he said, “Either you will enjoy this, or you will die, my little Mudblood whore. All Mudbloods are sluts but we do not keep the cold ones. We have Pureblood women for that.”

Hermione drew a breath and tried very hard not to panic. Nagini’s head was arched up off the floor, though most of her body off to the side, rocking back and forth as she watched her Master. Her tail, however, was literally coiled around Hermione’s throat and each panicked breath drew it tighter.

Hermione expelled a ragged scream as Voldemort slammed into her with a single thrust. She was fighting a physical battle to breath and a mental battle in an attempt to find something that turned her on. He had said if she did not enjoy it, she would die, so Hermione began picturing sex with Lucius only with Voldemort in the starring role so he would believe she was thinking of him.

The Dark Lord was hissing in parseltongue while plunging into her body roughly and slowly but surely her pussy became slick with desire and the snake loosened her tail. With that victory, however, came another problem. Now Lord Voldemort was literally shredding her thighs with his nails, grabbing her skin roughly and jerking her body forward into each thrust.

Thankfully, depending on how she viewed it, that was not exactly a bad thing. The blood drew the snake to her legs, the disgusting forked tongue was flicking out to taste her blood and her tail was as loose as ever but the pain was driving her to almost pass out.

Just when Hermione thought she could not take anymore, Voldemort withdrew his cock and came with a harsh grunt, his cock aimed at her legs. He came in jerky pulses, all over the wounds on her thighs. The pain made her scream, his salty hot cum was irritating each tear in her skin like acid. With one last pained whimper, Hermione passed out.

Hermione’s first thought upon waking was that she failed. She felt frustrated tears prickling her closed eyes and slowly opened them. As the room came into focus, she realized she was still lying upon the rug in Lord Voldemort’s chambers.

Barely believing her luck, she slowly turned her head toward the bed and there he was. Lord Voldemort was sound asleep in the centre of the massive bed with his beloved nasty snake right beside him. Hermione knew she had mere moments, and she had to keep her head as clear as she could. Who knew if the evil genius could read minds while sound asleep, but she was not about to take chances while being this close.  
She focused on a bland dream, one of sitting at the lake at Hogwarts reading a book as she sat up and carefully removed the silver “splinter” that had been embedded under her middle fingernail for months now.

Carefully standing and walking slowly, she approached the bed where the world’s greatest evil slept as peacefully as babies did. She concentrated a moment and cancelled the transfiguration on the sword of Gryffindor, returning it to its normal size.

Quietly taking a deep breath, Hermione swung the sword through the air and straight through Nagini’s neck before pivoting and using her momentum to slice completely through the neck of Lord Voldemort.  
The room became ice cold as fast as she could blink and Hermione grabbed the elder wand from under Voldemort’s pillow before igniting a roaring fire in the fireplace. She had levitated the body and head of Nagini into the fire and was working on the head of Voldemort when the door slammed open with a loud bang.

Bellatrix Lestrange was the first one in, followed closely by Severus. Each was holding their left arm and smoke could be seen rising from their sleeves. With a glance around the room, Severus quickly grabbed Bellatrix from behind so Hermione could complete the job.

The body and head of Tom Riddle were blackening and turning to dust by the time Lucius arrived and rushed over to her. Bellatrix was in tears in Severus’ arms, her reason for living gone so irrevocably she could feel it.

With the sword of Gryffindor in one hand and the elder wand in the other, Hermione latched onto Lucius and gave in to violent sobs. She thought she would be relieved, and she was, but the pressure and expectancy had worn on her to the point she was almost pained it was finally over.

Lucius gripped her head in both hands and forced her to look at him. “Pet, you did smashingly. You did what Dumbledore could not do. You did what Harry Potter could not do. You are a heroine my dear and you are all mine,” he whispered against her lips and then kissed her so desperately she lost what remained of her breath.

For weeks, Hermione stayed in her room at Malfoy Manor, not daring to believe it was honestly over and she could simply live. Lucius and Severus were left to turn in Death Eaters and reform the Ministry. It took Hermione’s personal house-elf informing her she was pregnant to snap her out of her self-imposed pity party.

Using the elder wand, she cast a paternity test on her developing baby and learned she was giving birth to an heir to replace the one Lucius’ horrible choices in life had lost him. She finally left her rooms that night and settled on her knees beside Lucius’ office chair.

Lucius looked down at her a moment before threading his fingers in her wild hair and leaning down to kiss her forehead. “I am thrilled to see you out of our bedchamber, my dear.”

She smiled up at him and leaned her head down against his thigh. Her hair fell over her shoulder, exposing her phoenix chick tattoo. Lucius made a disapproving grunting noise for a moment before pointing his wand at the tattoo.

Realizing what he was going to do, Hermione jumped back and pleaded with him, “No! Lucius, you cannot do that! Please, I promise I will explain why later, but you cannot.”

Lucius frowned at her, his eyes growing hard as he stood and backed her into a bookshelf. “Pet, you are hardly going to keep that ugly tattoo. Even if all you were to me was a slave, Hermione, you would be much more precious than an ugly half-burned phoenix. You remind me of that ugly duckling that blossomed into a swan. That is what you are; my swan and I simply wanted to show you.”

Hermione’s eyes grew misty as she stared at the man she had come to love and she whispered, “I am sorry, Master. I only meant I cannot have the spell performed right now because I am pregnant,” and moved her gaze to the floor. She could not bear to see his reaction to the fact he had impregnated a Mudblood.

Lucius stood dead still for almost five minutes before picking her up and dragging her into his arms. He whispered how much he loved her and thanked her in a million ways that night before dragging her off to the Ministry the next day to marry. If anyone gossiped about a Malfoy marrying a Mudblood, it never pierced their bubble.

Lucius ‘upgraded’ Hermione’s tattoo to a majestic phoenix in full flight the day after she gave birth to their first and only son, Abraxas. Lucius wanted to name his son after his own father, in hopes there would be an honourable Abraxas Malfoy.

Severus Snape was the absolute best Godfather young Abraxas Malfoy could have asked for.

And as for his parents?

They lived happily ever after.


End file.
